Its all Fangs to me
by Xdaisy chainX
Summary: After a relitively dry spell of supernatural activity, the guys find themselves in Blackshear, Georgia looking for the suspected vampire which is terrorising the town. SUSPENDED
1. Chapter 1

I know i vowed never to start posting a fic until the last one was finished, but i couldnt help myself :D

I started writing this last night, and just had to post it up here today. This fic follows the other two, although its not going to mention anything which happened in them so you dont have to read them at all to understand this one.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Kripke, i own nothing! Nothing i tell you!

* * *

Sam opened his eyes, and was immediately blinded by the flash of white hot pain which shot through his head. He looked up through half closed eyes to see his brother moving about with a dangerous grace, quickly closing in on the enemy only to retreat after landing a blow. In some sick way it was like watching a deadly dance, and the thought almost made the younger Winchester smile through his pain filled haze.

Though his hunter trained muscles were quick, they weren't quick enough as the blur of their quarry finally out footed Dean smashing into him and launching him across the room where he landed in a heap with a grunt of pain. Sam steeled himself, drawing on the last remaining reserves of his energy readying his body for another fight of the battle where they either won…or died trying.

* * *

THREE DAYS EARLIER

Dean took a moment to look up at the front of the motel where Sam was renting a room for the coming days before allowing his head to drop back against the steering wheel of the sleek, black Impala. He was beat. They had been driving around continuously from state to state trying to get a sniff of anything out of the ordinary which would require a looking into. But so far, weeks of fruitless searching had turned up nothing, it seemed as though all the ghosts and ghouls of America were taking a vacation.

"Probably in Hawaii," he grumbled to himself "at least it would be hot out" he added, opening his eyes and looking at the rain trailing down the window of the car before letting out a huff of annoyance and closing them again. If there was one thing Dean Winchester hated, it was rain. For one thing it made digging graves that much harder.

He let out a bark of mirthless laughter as the thought flitted through his mind. How many people could say they hated the weather depending on how it affected the difficulty of salting and burning decaying corpses.

Almost falling asleep the older Winchester jumped, pressing the horn accidentally, as the passenger door was ripped open and the smiling face of Sam Winchester came into view.

"Dude!…" he said almost reproachfully

"Sorry, couldn't help myself," Sam said, the laughter evident in his voice "now come on Grumpy and you can fall asleep in a proper bed" he added shutting the door with a bang before heading to the trunk to grab the duffels.

"Watch the damn paintwork!" Dean shouted to the retreating form of his pain in the ass little brother before grumbling "freaking Grumpy…should friggin' respect his elders….damn chirpy son of a…".

Getting out of the car and stretching stiffly in the dull light of the moon he walked to the back of the car and retrieved his own bag, hitting a grinning Sam upside the head before heading towards the motel room and the promise of sleep.

* * *

The next morning, slightly more refreshed though still a little sore, Dean awoke to the smell of freshly made, diner special, tar-like coffee and sighed ins satisfaction. Not even lifting his head from the pillow he launched his hand from under the covers and smiled when the comforting feel of warm polystyrene was placed into his grip.

Sam's eyes twinkled in amusement when his brothers dishevelled head finally rose from beneath the thin, motel issue duvet as he sat up to drink the coffee. Knowing Dean was no good to anyone until he was caffeinated, he had left the room once he was clean and dressed on a mission to find the least offensive looking, and smelling, diner he could in the small town.

Throwing a bag containing pastry shaped, breakfast type foods at his brother, his grin widened as it bounced of Dean's head causing the older Winchester to shoot a death glare his way before opening it and cramming one into his mouth.

"So…where are we again" he asked round a mouthful of mushed pastry.

Wrinkling his nose in distaste, Sam looked his brother in the eye for a moment.

"You weren't paying me the slightest bit of attention last night were you?" he asked, half amused and half exasperated.

"Dude, autopilot is a beautiful thing, and Dean Winchester just so happens to possess one of the best in the business," he said shooting a grin at his little brother, "besides, you weren't saying anything interesting, and I listened enough to get us here didn't I….wherever here is".

"We're in Blackshear, Georgia. There have been a string of deaths over the past few weeks and even a case of cattle mutilation. Three consecutive people went missing and turned up one night later, their bodies almost completely drained of blood. The local authority don't know what to make of it but I think we have a good idea huh…"

"Dude I know we're in Georgia, jeeze do you think I'm stupid enough to not at least know what state we're in," Dean grouched, pulling a less than mature face at his brother "and this could only be one thing right…vampires".

"Well it could be any number of things, but yeah, vampires are top of the list right now" Sam said shuffling the papers in his hands with an incredibly focused sense of urgency, taking care to avoid looking directly into his brothers eyes.

The uncomfortable air surrounding the brothers was not lost on Dean as he remembered the too recent incident in Montana where they had run into an overzealous hunter by the name of Gordon whilst hunting for a nest of vampires. Conflicting feelings and ideas had led to force being used and bad air between the brothers, and each was eager to forget what had happened.

"Right, er so the usual then…" Dean said after clearing his throat "I'll sharpen the knives, you go and check our supply of dead mans blood". Finally leaving the confines of his warm bed, Dean reached down to retrieve the weapons duffel containing two vicious looking machetes and a small, sharp dagger. He set to sharpening them, pausing to look up as Sam left the room in the direction of the Impala.

Sam mentally shook himself. Although apologies had been made and accepted on both of their accounts, he still went cold at the thought of what had transpired in Montana. The seed of doubt it had planted in both brothers minds, about the black and white of good versus evil suddenly becoming a giant grey smudge, had stirred slightly.

Reaching around the trunk of the Impala, he grabbed at the stash of bottles, pulling each one out to check their contents before replacing them. Finally he found what he wanted, the vial of dead mans blood. For some reason or other it was as deadly as poison to vampires, serving to weaken them of nothing else. And with the heightened strength and speed with which vampires attacked, any advantage was a huge one during a battle.

He sighed seeing their stash was pitifully low. Knowing the potency of the blood was affected by how fresh it was, and remember when the amount he held had been collected, he realised it wasn't going to do much good in the field. He pocketed the bottle, people might get suspicious if he was seen walking back to his room with a vial of blood in his hands, he headed back towards the motel.

"Dean, we don't have any, well any worth using anyways, and there's no chance we can get more from the mortuary, the security round there has been stepped up tenfold since the latest deaths. Small town like this isn't used to this many stiffs turning up in such a short time" he said tossing the vial towards his brother who sat cross legged on the bed, knives sitting in front of him.

Dean glanced up and caught the bottle sailing towards him with ease, his reflexes honed by the life he had led. Frowning at the bottle, he sighed before throwing it onto Sam's bed.

"Might as well keep the bottle, never know when you need a spare one huh, guess we're just going to have to do this the hard way then" he said, tension still evident in his voice, although both brothers felt more relaxed now they realised neither one was going to bring up their last vampire encounter.

"Sure," Sam said, retrieving the bottle and washing it out in the bathroom sink "so anyways, what's the plan of action?".

"Well, you said something about the last two victims were last seen in that bar we passed on the way in right…Al's or Lee's or something right?" Dean asked, resuming the task he had set himself.

"So you were listening a little last night huh" Sam said grinning "The bars called Louie's and yeah, that was the last place two of the victims were seen".

"I don't think we're dealing with a nest here dude, the deaths are too few and far between for it to be more than one vamp" Dean said, all business now they were discussing the case.

"I agree, and the victims were all women, it's probably going for the weaker looking ones to try and stay away from injury".

"Right, so what say we have ourselves a night at Louie's Bar huh Sam?" Dean said with a smirk picking up one of the lethal looking machetes and giving it the once over, turning it slightly so that the sunlight caught the edge making it gleam.

* * *

I was just perusing a map of america, and picked Blackshear because the name was interesting, I dont pretend to know anything about towns of america because iv never been :D

Im picturing the timeline somewere after bloodlust on the second season, so spoiler for anything before then.

Yeah anyways, as always, all comments and critiques welcome :D

XsarahX

p.s. im in no way making out that women are a weaker sex lol, i was just pointing out the fact that a little woman would put up less of a fight than most of the burly blokes you find sitting in bars.


	2. Chapter 2

So chapter 2, took a little time but i got it out quickly compared to the update speed of my last fic, the third chapter is pretty much done too so it should be out tomorrow.

Everything belongs to kripke, i only own the stuff you dont recognise

Warning: some swearing but nothing y'all cant handle

* * *

Dean had welcomed the relatively free day they had gained due to the nature of their plan, especially considering the lack of rest he had had over the last few weeks. But even he had to admit feeling relieved once the sun had finally gone down and the time for action was upon them.

Opting to leave the Impala at their temporary home in light of the short distance to Louie's and the alcohol which no doubt would be consumed, the brothers set out into the darkness. Walking into the bar, Dean had to suppress a snort of laughter as all the stereotypes one would expect in a small town public house were painfully evident within seconds of entering the room. Men old enough to be dead perched precariously on worn out bar stools while the resident hell's angels played pool in one of the dingier corners. The hot, smokey atmosphere was permeated with the stench of stale beer and the dull lighting only added to the 'ambience' of the room.

Predictably, as soon as the door opened and the Winchester's entered, every head in the place turned to inspect the new comers; frowns littering the room once it became obvious that the brothers were strangers to the bar.

The tired looking barman stood in place attempting, unconvincingly, to polish a glass with a dirty cloth. Dean, his mischievous nature not to be denied, took a long look around the room and paused only to shoot a huge grin at his frowning audience, stopping only when the elbow of his disgruntled younger brother connected with his ribs.

He turned and shot his brother a 'what!?' look before heading over to one of the non-descript corners of the room, signalling for two beers to the barman.

"Ok, so I don't know about you, but none of these guys is screaming 'vampire' at me" he said sliding into the seat of the booth he had chosen for its prime room scanning position.

"I know what you mean," Sam said mirroring his brother's movements "although half of these guys look like they could be possible zombies"

Laughing, Dean took a moment to scan the room again, lingering over the pool table where a few scantily clad women hung off the beefy, leather wearing biker guys. A petite blond looked up and noticed his gaze, shooting him a flirtatious grin before refocusing her attentions on the game. Dean grinned to himself before turning back to the less-than-impressed face of his brother.

"We have a job to do Dean" Sam said, a warning in his tone.

"I know, I know, you don't have to worry about me there sparky" Dean said, the grin dying on his lips.

Apparently one of the guys playing pool was a sore looser, letting out a shout of frustration as he miss hit a ball which cost him the game. The blonde Dean had cast his eye on tried to placate him by placing her hands upon the sides of his face and gently whispering into his ear. Evidently unimpressed by what she had to say, the tank of a man roughly grabbed her hands forcing them from his face before knocking her to the floor with a vicious backhanded slap.

Dean was on his feet in an instant ready to launch himself across the room to help the damsel in distress and to teach any man who would hit a woman a lesson, only stopping when Sam laid a hand on his shoulder. Looking up he saw the woman getting to her feet and running from the bar, streams of mascara running down her face. Meanwhile, her bull of a boyfriend was being roughed up by one of his leather-head companions while the barman ran to the backroom, evidently retrieving some form of weapon to aid in stopping the fight which had broken out.

During all the commotion, a man neither brother had noticed sitting in the darkest corner of the bar, rose and slowly sauntered out of the door in a manner which attracted no one else's attention in the room.

"Come on" a tight lipped Dean Winchester muttered to his brother before following suit.

Once out once again in the open air and pitch blackness of the night, the Winchesters took a moment to look for their quarry, finally spotting him walking in the shadows towards the woman who had left moment before. Evidently still upset, and more than a little inebriated, she headed towards the nearest alleyway looking for the quickest route home.

Not missing a step, the shady character headed straight towards her, keeping in shadows in an obvious effort to keep his identity secret. For the most part it was working, neither Winchester had been able to get a proper glimpse of the mans face and were only able to glimpse at how tall and well built he was.

The brothers quickened their step; every second would count if this was their guy. They were left without a shadow of a doubt when they heard the muffled scream of the woman followed by the sounds of struggle coming from the alleyway.

Breaking into a run, they entered the alleyway, barely able to make out the details in the cold light of the moon. Ridiculously dark and caked in grime, the alleyway was as nondescript as any other with the exception of the man in the centre of it, baring fangs to the neck of his helpless victim.

Without a moment's hesitation, the brothers moved towards the vampire, letting out simultaneous shouts of "HEY!"

Disturbed from it's would be feast their quarry looked up, hissing in indignation before throwing the unconscious woman to the floor. With inhuman speed, he ran towards the brothers, jumping into the air and aiming a flying kick which he landed perfectly on the chests of the Winchesters.

Both brothers hit the ground with grunts of pain, instinctively rolling to avoid another attack whilst they were vulnerable. Dean, being the first to his feet, launched himself at the retreating form of the vampire. Wrapping his arms around his waist, he managed to rugby tackle him to the ground. Though pinned beneath the weight of the older Winchester the vampire still managed to turn in his arms, pulling his hand back and launching Dean across the alley once again with a well aimed punch to his face.

"Get the sonuvabitch" he grunted to Sam who had stooped to check on his brother. Standing slowly, eyes on the target, Sam braced himself. The vampire was stood, stock still, a few meters from the younger Winchester. Even in the crappy light Sam could tell he was grinning, the pale moonlight glinting slightly off his fangs. Menacingly, he took a step forward.

Suddenly he stopped still once again, staring at a space over the young hunters shoulder. Hissing in anger he turned and ran, shooting off like a bullet from a gun.

Sam tensed, counting slowly to himself a few heartbeats before whipping around to see what it was which had spooked the vampire. From the corner of his eye he saw Dean, who was clutching his bleeding nose, roll so he could get a look as well. At the mouth of the alley stood a man hidden in the shadow of the night. Walking forwards, he bent down next to the unconscious woman moving a hand towards her face. Once more Sam's shoulders tensed, ready in case this new man turned out to be another threat.

Ignoring the brothers completely, the man stroked the cheek of the woman. Suddenly he pulled his hand back as though it had been burned, lowering his head and letting out a loud sob. Putting his palms over his eyes, his shoulders shook with the emotion as his cries broke the quiet of the evening.

Stunned, Sam looked down at his brother, who looked up to meet his gaze with wide eyed confusion plastered on his face.

"Err, sir, are you alight?" he asked tentatively taking a step towards the weeping man.

Looking up, the guy stared as if noticing the Winchesters for the first time. A range of emotions crossed his face, before settling on rage. Standing suddenly, he came towards Sam, aiming a punch at his midsection. Sam hit the ground with a grunt, his back against the wall, looking up at his attacker with confusion his eyes.

Dean had leapt to his feet the moment the guy had moved towards his baby brother with intent to hurt him. Blood ran down his chin from his nose, pooling on his shirt and leaving stains which would be a bitch to get out. Moving forwards, he grabbed the guy's shirt, ducking a punch, and pulled his face towards his own.

"You got a problem buddy, you take it up with me and keep your hands off m'brother" he said with danger in his voice.

Seeing the lethal looking, bloodstained man in front of him snapped the guy out of his angry trance. He met Dean's gaze with a cold look of his own.

"You guys were helping that bastard…which means you have to die" he said, his voice gravely with unshed tears. Whipping his hands up, he grabbed Dean's wrists with a grip which would have shook most men. Dean Winchester wasn't most men. Turning swiftly, he pushed his quarry against the other wall of the alley with enough force to knock the air from his lungs.

"Listen to me dude; we have nothing to do with that guy. Now if you calm the hell down maybe we can talk about this like _civilised _men huh" Dean bit out, releasing the pressure of the bunched up shirt a little to show he meant no harm.

His would be assailant sagged, almost seeming to deflate in front of his eyes, tears once more rolling down his cheeks.

"Dean," Sam's said quietly from behind him, once again on his feet now he had caught his breath back "lets take him back to the motel room, he might know something"

Without looking at his brother, Dean nodded curtly releasing his hold on the man altogether.

"Sam, you take the chick home, make sure she's ok, I'll take Captain Slaphappy back," he said, slipping the arm of the sagging, heaving man over his shoulder, "com'on, you have some explaining to do"

* * *

Little bit of action for you, just a snippet of whats to come, i get the feeling this isnt going to be an uber long fic, maybe just about 7 chapters

anyways lemme know what you think, all comments and critiques welcome :)

XsarahX


	3. Chapter 3

Ok, chapter three, enjoy

I only own what you dont recognise

* * *

Sam entered the room of the motel to see the mystery man sitting on his bed with a cup of something which smelt strongly of coffee, and his brother leaving the bathroom with a bag of ice held against his nose.

"Dude I am totally gonna have a black eye tomorrow, I'm gonna kill that sonuvabitch" he said thickly from behind the ice pack "so did you get the chick home ok you dashing knight in shining armour you"

"Ha ha Dean, yes I got her home ok, she's too drunk to remember anything that happened anyways…kept calling me Bo…"

Dean barely suppressed a snort of laughter as he turned to their less than welcome guest a cold seriousness spreading through him.

The man sat with a thousand mile stare, his hands loosely clasped around his now cold, barely touched coffee.

"What do we do with the stiff" Dean whispered as best he could from behind the ice pack.

"Dean" Sam said reproachfully. Honestly, somtimes his brother had zero tact.

Moving slowly towards the forlorn form sitting on his bed, he sat down stiffly next to him. Being launched across the alleyway had done neither of the Winchesters any favours, and both would be sporting some substantial bruises come morning.

"Err, hi there, I'm Sam, Sam Winchester" he said tentatively.

The man looked around slowly and fixed the younger hunter with eyes so full of pain and loss it took his breath away for a moment.

"Greg," he said after a moment, his gravely voice still a little shaky "Greg Richards"

Despite himself, Sam let out a little gasp as realisation slowly crossed his features. Dean looked from one to the other, confusion clouding his eyes.

"Dude, what?" he asked his brother.

"Richards, there err, there was a woman, one of the err victims…Claire Richards" Sam stuttered out as he studied the broken man before him.

Greg lowered his head, and fresh tears, silent rolled down his cheeks.

"She was my little sister" he said with a shaky sob.

Dean's eyes filled with an emotion which only older siblings would understand. The fierce protectiveness which a brother or sister would feel for their younger brethren was always shadowed by a terror that one day they wouldn't be there to help if something bad happened. This feeling was magnified ten fold for Dean as he had almost been Sam's mother and father _as well as _brother, as they grew up. The thought of loosing his Sammy…didn't bear thinking about. He knew it would finish him if it ever happened, and he looked upon the broken man before him with a new respect as well as a terrible empathy.

"What happened?" he asked in such a low voice, it was almost just a whisper of air.

"That…that bastard" Greg stuttered out, rage suddenly flashing behind his eyes "she just went to Louie's…she always went to Louie's and then one night she just didn't come home…they found her the next day…"

Sam and Dean looked at each other, suddenly everything made sense, and Sam no longer blamed the guy for the bruised stomach he had received.

"He killed her, for no good reason…he just killed my Claire" Greg said, throwing the coffee cup across the room, causing the Winchesters to jump slightly.

Dean's eyes connected with Sam's communicating silently. Should they tell this volatile guy the real reason his sister had lost her life? Should they try and explain that a vampire was the cause of her death, and shatter any illusions he had about the world he lived in…or should they just lie and let him grieve for what he believed had happened; a regular, textbook murder?

Their minds were made up for them when Greg lowered his hands from his face and looked up, a new emotion burning in his eyes.

"If it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna kill him for this"

"Listen Greg, there's something you need to know about this guy, something which you're probably not going to believe…but you have to, there's no reason for us to lie about something like this" Sam said, his voice low and smooth, trying both to placate the angry man in front of him, and communicate the fact that he was telling the truth.

Greg looked up, his shoulders visibly relaxing, but a question in his eyes.

"What the hell were you two clowns doing there anyways?" he asked, suspicion dripping from every word.

"That's what we're trying to tell you" Dean bit out, hackles raised at the accusation still evident in the mans voice.

Sam shot him a 'calm down dude' look before returning his gaze back to Greg.

"It…its complicated," he started, not sure how to begin "I…"

"Your sister was killed by a vampire" Dean shot out, figuring the best way to go about this was quickly.

A terrible silence filled the room for a moment, Sam shooting an incredulous look at his brother, before Greg let out a shout of laughter.

He seemed to lose it for a second, letting out guffaws before settling into a sort of manic giggling. Tears, this time of mirth, running down his face he finally looked up into Dean's eyes.

"Vampires," he said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable "my little sister was killed by Dracula"

"Nope" Dean said, frustration rolling off him in waves, no one ever wanted to believe this stuff "Dracula isn't real, your sister was killed by a run of the mill, blood sucking sonuvabitch"

Sam shot another glare his brother's way before focusing back on Greg.

"Look I know it's hard to believe what my knucklehead brother is saying, but its all true. Vampires are as real as you or I, and the guy you saw tonight is one of them. That is why me and my brother were in the alley, we were trying to stop him from taking a fourth victim"

Greg studied the brothers for a moment, disbelief still written across his face.

"How else do you explain the puncture wounds dude?" Dean asked.

"How…how did you know…puncture wounds" Greg said, the cocky smile on his face faltering for a moment.

Dean fixed him with a knowing, but sympathetic, stare for a moment, allowing the information to sink in.

"Or the fact that she doesn't have a drop of blood left in her body?"

Greg sat for a moment, realisation slowly creeping across his features. It almost seemed as though the innocence, everyone but a hunter possesses, was dripping out from his body and taking the last dregs of disbelief with it.

"Oh my God" the words were whispered so quietly the brothers nearly missed them.

Knowing that Greg would take some time to mull over the information that they had just given him, Sam and Dean left him to it, pottering about the room and generally keeping themselves busy to allow Greg a moment to himself.

* * *

The next morning, Dean awoke with the mother of all headaches. He had slept in the uncomfortable, motel issue armchair, giving up his bed to his little brother when it became evident that Greg was going to be with them for the rest of the night.

Taking pain killers the night before had done nothing for the older hunter, and his almost broken nose throbbed with renewed vigour in the early morning light. Stumbling to the bathroom, and the promise of more meds, he looked in the mirror and winced.

Though still slightly swollen, his nose was almost back to normal, but he was sporting a mother of a black eye. Picking at the bits of dried blood he had missed the night before, he turned his head right and left to inspect the shiner which covered nearly his entire right eye. Lifting his shirt, he prodded at the foot shaped bruise left on his chest. Sighing slightly he picked up his toothbrush and began his daily, morning ritual to wake himself up.

Sam stirred at the sound of the water gushing from the shower, and groaned slightly when he moved. As predicated the night before, he was slightly stiff from the fight and knew without looking he would be sporting some bruises.

Turning over, he blanched when he saw someone in Dean's bed, knowing Dean was in the shower, taking a moment to remember Greg. After shattering his illusions of the world the night before, the brothers had left him to himself until he felt ready to talk more. They had talked of their job, explained that the monsters under his bed were probably real and proceeded to tell him what they planned to do with the vampire which had caused him so much pain.

After his initial shock and disdain, Greg seemed all too eager to accept that the brothers were not lying and that their way of life was real. He offered his services immediately to help them track and kill the sonuvabitch who had killed his sister. Sam was in the process of denying him, when Dean shocked them both by agreeing to his offer. Knowing that he would be driven by revenge should anything ever happen to Sam; he understood that Greg could never rest while the vampire was 'alive'.

So Sam had finally agreed, still uneasy about the thought of bringing innocent people into the hunt. Finally after hours of talk, they had retired to bed. Stretching, he rose to a sitting position, his movements disturbing Greg from his slumber.

Sam saw Greg's eyes open slowly before snapping awake. Looking round wildly for a moment, he relaxed after apparently remembering where he was. He turned his head and blanched slightly when he realised Sam was watching him.

"Morning" Sam offered after an awkward pause.

"Yeah" replied Greg after an equally awkward pause.

Sam looked up as his brother walked out of the bathroom, and winced in sympathy upon seeing the bruise which marred Dean's face.

"Dude" was all he said, knowing this sympathy would be translated in his single word.

"I know" Dean replied with a frown. Looking over at Greg, he nodded in acknowledgement. Getting a reply nod, he tugged on a coat over his t-shirt, "I'm gonna go get us some breakfast, then we need to talk about how we're going to take this bastard down".

* * *

I know this is a remarkably unremarkable chapter, but it was needed, more action and excitement in the next chapters

as ever, all comments and critiques welcome :)

XsarahX


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